


That's What Friends Are For

by BleedingInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, F/M, Humor, Sex Talk, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 15:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11694678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: Castiel goes to Dean for the sort of advice only a best friend can give.





	That's What Friends Are For

Dean startled a little when he walked into the kitchen that morning. He wasn’t expecting to find Castiel sitting in one of the chairs, silently staring at the wall with his usual frown, as if he was deep in reflection. Dean hadn’t heard him come, which meant he had either arrived at the bunker at the ass crack of dawn or he had spent the night there without announcing himself.

Which was… odd.

“Hey, buddy,” he greeted him while he walked over to the coffee maker. “What brings you here? Is there a crisis that we need to get solving?”

Castiel blinked and slowly turned towards Dean, as if he had forgotten it was his friend who lived there.

“No. Everything has been… quiet.”

“Well, no news is good news, right?” Dean commented as he took his coffee to the table. “What’s up?”

Castiel tilted his head and intertwined his fingers over the table. It seemed as if he was debating with himself whether to mention whatever it was that was bothering him to Dean or not.

“I… Dean, can I request your advice?” he asked in the end.

“Okay, sure,” Dean said, a little confused.

“It’s a… how could I put this? A matter of… an amorous relationship I’m having.”

“Oh,” Dean said. That made a little more sense, but still not completely. “I thought you were still getting over Meg?”

“Yes, it has been hard for me since her passing. But I recently met this person and she and I… connected. She’s a widow, so she understood the grief I was going through. And she also understood the… challenges that come with adjusting to life on Earth.”

“What, is she an angel?” Dean asked, with a chuckle that soon froze in his throat. “She’s not another demon, is she?”

“No.” Castiel shook his head. “But what she is it’s hardly the issue. I found out that we have some… incompatibilities. Sexually speaking.”

“Alright.” Dean took a gulp of his coffee. He’s not sure he’s ready to hear about Castiel’s sexual escapades, but if there’s one thing Dean Winchester is, that’s a supporting friend. “What’s the problem?”

Castiel clears his throat, obviously as uncomfortable as Dean, but this woman must really be something, because the angel gathers up his courage and explains:

“Well… my love-making with Meg was always on the rougher side. I don’t know if it was due to her demonic nature, but she enjoyed a bit of power play and…”

“Okay, Cas, you don’t need to get graphic,” Dean interrupted him. “Just give me the general picture.”

“This new person I’m with seems to prefer a more… gentle lover,” Castiel continued. “But at the same time, she requested I do something that… disconcerted me.”

Dean knew he was going to regret asking the instant the words rolled out of his tongue:

“Which was…?”

“While we were having intercourse, she wanted me to… simultaneously… stimulate her behind. With my digits. I’m being as ungraphic as I can,” he added, lowering his eyes in shame as Dean did everything to suppress his grimace.

“No, no, it’s fine.” He took another gulp of his coffee and wondered if it was too early to break out the whiskey. “Seems like you have a freaky girl there. Also, a vocal one.”

“She is indeed vocal. She screamed my Father’s name when I tried to pleasure her orally.”

“Okay.” Dean chuckled, because as uncomfortable as this whole conversation was, that was pretty hilarious. “What I mean is you got a girl who isn’t afraid to tell you what she want from you. Which is good, you know? It means she trusts you. Don’t take that for granted. Communication is important, Cas.”

“Yes.” Castiel nodded and let out a sigh. When he looked again, a little smile appeared in his lips. “Thank you, Dean.”

“No problem. That’s what friends are for,” Dean said and patted Castiel in the back. “But hey, now you gotta tell me: where did you meet this woman? And where can I find one like her?” he added, with another laugh.

“Well…” Castiel began, but before he could continue, Mary walked into the kitchen, donning her jeans and a grey tank top. She yawned and smiled.

“Ah, good morning, honey.”

Castiel turned to her to watch her pour her coffee and his smile grew wider.

“Good morning, Mary.”

It took Dean all of two seconds to understand what was going on. And it must have shown in his face, because the moment his mother turned to him, her peaceful and pleased face was replaced by one of utter panic.

Dean pushed his chair backwards, muttered something that didn’t even make sense to him and fled.

He almost ran into Sam in the process.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked, frowning.

“No, I’m not okay,” Dean said. “Do we still have that really old and expensive whiskey the Men of Letter hid in the dungeon?”

“Uh… it’s eight in the morning, Dean.” Sam frowned at him. “Why are you…?”

From the kitchen, Mary’s voice came floating at them:

“That is not what I meant when I said you needed to talk to Dean!”

“Trust me,” Dean said, grabbing Sam by the arm and dragging him away. “We need it.”

 


End file.
